


Light and Dark

by Zelan



Category: Ib (Video Game)
Genre: Dolls, Gen, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-18 06:00:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12382335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zelan/pseuds/Zelan
Summary: Garry struggles with the aftermath of his visit to the art gallery.





	Light and Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RobanCrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobanCrow/gifts).



> RobanCrow showed me Ib. It was pretty great.

The door is locked. Garry tugs at the handle, even though he knows it’s useless. This world, whatever it is, seems to have a habit of locking him in.

He turns around, terror rising in him, crawling its way up his throat, and faces the dolls. They stare at him with creepy smiles, and he flashes back again to looking around this room with Mary and Ib. Mary had called them “cute.” He’d asked Ib why. It had looked as though she was about to agree with Mary, but she had hesitated when she saw his face, finally answered that she wasn’t sure.

It didn’t sit well with him. The dolls seemed just as menacing as anything else they’d encountered so far, and Ib hadn’t hinted that she thought any of it might be cute. There was something more to this, he was sure of it, but what it could be, he had no idea.

He shakes the thoughts away when writing appears on the door.

“Let’s have another treasure hunt…”

“Who? Who? Who has the key?”

Garry frowns. “What is…?”

The sinister sound of a bell rings out. “W-What? What now?” he whimpers, although he knows full well what he has to do. The sound reminds Garry of a clock ticking down midnight, like he’s a princess and the magic is running out.

What he wouldn’t give to be a Disney protagonist right now. They never died. And everything they had to deal with was rated G.

These thoughts manage to keep him going as he tears open dolls and all manner of awful things spill out like he thinks a person’s intestines would. He tries not to linger over each one.

And then he makes the mistake of looking up.

He doesn’t know how to describe the _thing_ crawling out of the mirror at the front of the room. If he were religious he might have called it Satan. He can feel himself hyperventilating as he fumblingly rips apart the dolls, searching, searching for the key that will let him out of this hell.

\-----

Garry’s eyes fly open and he takes in his surroundings, still breathing far too shallowly, like he was in his dream. He can feel his heart thudding, so hard that it reaches his fingertips. Running a hand through his sweaty hair, he realizes that he’s trembling.

This is the third night in a row that he’s dreamt of the doll room. That had been by far the scariest part of the jaunt through Guertena’s twisted works. Even his near-death experience early on couldn’t compare. The physical pain from his rose being damaged was nothing compared to the mental beating that he’d taken after being separated from Ib.

Ib. The quiet little girl who had been the first thing that he saw after his eyes fluttered open, presenting the blue rose to him, whole and healthy once again. He owed her his life, he knew that much.

She was definitely smarter than he was. Despite the fact that she had been nearly silent throughout the entire ordeal, he could tell that she was constantly thinking, analyzing each threat and puzzle as it came. The memory of her taking charge and directing him through each new horror was impressive, but more importantly, it was calming. It was a reminder that he had not been alone.

The shaking subsides enough that he’s able to sit up. He grabs his lighter off his nightstand as he does so. His eyes stray to the unopened pack of cigarettes that lay beside it. He craves the feeling of one between his fingers and at his lips, but every time he tries to light one he remembers using the lighter to burn Mary’s portrait, and his hands shake so badly that he drops the lighter and cigarette. Maybe it’s for the best. He’s been trying to kick the habit for a year now.

Maybe it’s the one good thing to come out of that nightmare. No, not the only one. There’s Ib, too. They’ll see each other again, he’s sure of it.

Garry slumps against the headboard and closes his eyes, recalling the feel of Ib throwing her little arms around him, burying her face in his stomach and holding tighter than he would have thought possible. A desperate bear hug like that came only out of complete and total trust.

A bittersweet smile crossed his face unbidden. She might be the only person in the world right now who trusted Garry, and he was very aware of what a precious gift that was.

He would do anything to honor that gift.


End file.
